


Frankie Baby

by pinebox



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 4+1, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bottom Frank Iero, M/M, Teasing, camp counselors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinebox/pseuds/pinebox
Summary: "Frank won't admit it though; he'll deny it until he's blue in the face. Being called 'Frankie Baby' doesnotturn him on, it'snotcute, and he loves it.Wait--no, he hates it.Frank totally hates it."Frank is a little punk brat who won't admit he loves the way Gerard calls him "Frankie Baby."Summer Camp AUOr four times Gerard got the reaction he expected out of Frank and the one time he didn't.





	1. Prologue

It's totally not Frank's style or what he wants, but he has the prettiest face you'd ever see. Round hazel eyes, plump shiny lips, a cute nose. The way his shirts were always a bit short and rode up when he lifted his arms above his head--which was often since he was too short to reach things on tall shelves. Frank's jeans didn't hug his lower half and he didn't have a round butt, but it didn't matter, he was still cute.

Frank was a cute motherfucker, especially when he tried acting all tough. He got his lips and nose pierced over one summer and became a new person. From small, cute guy to punk small, cute guy.

He also had a huge case of Napoleon syndrome--acting like a bigger person because he was physically small. But Frank wasn't weak or a baby--he was punk and cool. He wore jeans ripped at the knees, painted his nails black and wore eyeliner.

Frank doesn't want to be pretty, he _isn't_ pretty. He'd throat punch anyone who made fun of him. You _don't_ fuck with Frank Iero. Except for Gerard Way.

Gerard got on Frank's every last nerve, always teasing and toying with him. He was a mystery to Frank, borderline flirted with him all the time. Recently, Gerard had gone too far. He gave Frank a pet name.

"Hey, Frankie baby," Gerard purred. _Frankie baby. _What kind of a name is that? Frank doesn't do nicknames _or _cutesy ones. _And I'm not a baby._

Frank squeaked slightly, gaping softly at Gerard's confident approach. "D-don't call me that," Frank then muttered, straightening up.

"Why not?" Gerard teased, smirking.

"Be-because I'm not your baby," Frank blushed a brilliant red, then added, "and it's a lame nickname."

"That's a shame," Gerard sighed, 'tsk'ing. Frank's heart froze, and he almost choked from his heart sputtering and deciding to switch from beating fast to stopping in a matter of seconds. Gerard paused his torment of the younger camp counselor to do what he originally came inside here to do: make coffee.

Gerard and Frank were camp counselors at Sunny's Camp for Kids along with Ray Toro, James Dewees, Bert McCracken, Lindsey Ballato, Jamia Nestor, Alicia Simmons, and Mikey Way, Gerard's younger brother. The camp was for kids ages six to twelve. Gerard and Lindsey taught in the arts and crafts room, Ray, James, and Frank the music room, and Bert and Jamia in the theater room. Alicia and Mikey were camp counselor leaders of the girls and boys respectively. Mikey was the kids' favorite for some reason.

Gerard and Frank were in the counselor's lounge of the boys' cabin. It had a mini kitchen with two couches, an old box TV, a dining table, and two bedrooms fit with a bunk bed and a twin size bed. Ray, Gerard, and Mikey slept in one room and Bert, James, and Frank in the other. The girls' cabin was the same, but probably nicer and smelled a whole lot better.

James came into the lounge, breaking the awkward tension. He was the oldest counselor and had been there the longest. Gerard and Frank met the year they both joined, two years ago. Frank was sixteen when he started and Gerard was twenty. Mikey joined the next year when he was eighteen. Now Mikey was nineteen, Frank eighteen, and Gerard twenty-two.

"Teddy bear!" Gerard greeted James. Okay maybe Gerard had nicknames for everyone, but Frank felt personally victimized.

"Gee-bear," James smiled greatly, enveloping Gerard into a hug. "Little bear," James said as he turned around to face Frank.

"This isn't _Goldilocks and the Three Bears_," Frank said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you're not a bear," James replied. Gerard and James exchanged a look and started laughing like little children. Frank wasn't sure what that meant, but he ignored them anyway. He also wondered what Gerard meant earlier about it being a shame when Frank said he didn't like the nickname.

The camp was divided into two teams: the Screaming Gophers and the Killer Bass. Named after the show _Total Drama Island_ but here it's much more responsible and less violent. Gerard and his friends were apart of what the other counselors would call nerdy or stupid activities like art and music. They're the socially awkward art freaks who don't like going outside, but somehow they're here and loving it.

Gerard, personally, likes the kids who come into the art room better than the ones who do archery. He sees himself in them, like how he was as a kid. Getting glitter everywhere and trying to eat glue.

So what they weren't athletic and burned easily in the sun? They wouldn't be here if they hated it. Teaching kids art and music, and seeing their faces light up when they did something right or got approval, made the heat and bugs worth it.

Seeing Frank's beautiful face made it worth it as well. Frank was incredulously pretty for a boy, Gerard couldn't shake it. It was unbelievable, like _how? _How was Frank Iero so darn pretty?

It was funny, Gerard thought. Frank would be crossing his arms, acting tough and cool, and then Gerard would casually call him 'Frankie Baby', and Frank would _lose_ it. He blushed, stuttered, eyes bugging wide and mouth open. Completely oblivious yet intensely aware of everyone else around them. Through the first few seconds of shock, Frank forgets who he is. How desperately he feels towards not liking that nickname. Then, after the split second glance of want and desire escapes him, he's back and glaring at Gerard.

Every damn time, it gets to him and it works. Frank swoons only at first and only a fraction of an inch, then he's furious at Gerard for embarrassing him. Sometimes Frank feels like confronting Gerard about it, but when they're alone and Gerard's looking at him with all of his attention, Frank forgets everything.

Gerard's really nice, he's crazy talented in art, writing, even singing, and he's attractive as all hell. Frank's seen Gerard's hands while working and fucking _salivates_. He'll be watching Gerard paint something and staring at the veins in his hands, then he's mentally slapping himself, telling himself to get his head out of the gutter.

Frank won't admit it though; he'll deny it until he's blue in the face. Being called 'Frankie Baby' does _not_ turn him on, it's _not_ cute, and he loves it. _Wait--no, he hates it. _Frank totally hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been sitting in my drafts for too long bc I didnt know what to write next (I still don't) but we're just gonna call this the prologue
> 
> I'm really excited for this one shot and I'm really proud of it so far so hopefully yall like it :')
> 
> \- paige


	2. Frankie Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four times Gerard got the reaction he expected out of Frank and the one time he didn't.

**One**

"It was a dark and stormy night..." Gerard said lowly over the flashlight shining under his chin. Frank stopped listening after that, watching the way the light made shadows across Gerard's face. He looked so pretty.

But boys can't be pretty, Frank always thought. It wasn't until he met Gerard would he understand that, yes, boys can be pretty, too. Gerard thought Frank was also pretty. He sure told him enough.

Gerard was always complimenting him and being a generally nice guy. It was super annoying. Why did he have to be so nice? It made it harder for Frank to hate him. Truthfully, though, Frank didn't hate Gerard at all. Quite the opposite, but he'd never admit it.

Only when the darkness and summer heat blanketed him in the middle of the night would Frank even consider it.

Gerard would tease Frank and call the shorter one 'Frankie Baby.' Which one could call a compliment, but Frank considered abuse.

But it doesn't matter. Frank isn't thinking about this right now. He isn't thinking about all the times Gerard's teased him, causing him to blush and stutter. It's 'telling scary stories over the campfire' time. Not "think about Gerard and get all warm inside" time. That was for _later_.

"...and then he jumped out from under the shadows and yelled into the frail boy's ear--" Gerard whispered, leaning forward. "Boo!" He yelled, grabbing Frank's shoulder. Frank jumped ten feet into the air and shrieked.

"You asshole," Frank growled, his disdain obvious on his face.

"Language!" A nine-year-old said. The others giggled at Frank's bewilderment.

"I could tell you weren't listening to my story," Gerard explained, wagging his finger at Frank as if he was scowling a child.

"That's because it sucked," Frank huffed, crossing his arms. Maybe he _was_ acting like a child.

"I think I got my point across," the other mumbled and flicked the flashlight off.

"Alright! Everyone back to their cabins, it's bedtime," counselor Ray said.

"But not for us," Mikey whispered triumphantly.

The counselors got the kids back into their respective cabins and settled into theirs. They technically weren't supposed to drink on the job, but it was summer, so that's what they were going to do.

Gerard slipped his arm around Frank's shoulders, leaning into him to whisper, "sorry for scaring you, Frankie Baby," and poked him in the ribs. Frank's insides twisted, a blush creeping onto his face, and a strangled squeak escaped his throat. Gerard laughed, dropping his arm.

_What an asshole..._

**Two**

Some days Frank would join Gerard and Lindsey in the crafts cabin instead of being with Ray and James in the music one. Frank liked both art mediums--music being his ultimate favorite, but arts and crafts were still good. Plus, he got to watch Gerard work.

Frank swore Gerard could turn anything, even trash, into art. And then he'd go on to say, "Frankie Baby, everything is art," or something equally as cheesy as that. Gerard was good at _everything._ God, is there anything you _can't_ do?

"Hey, Frankie!" Lindsey waved at him from a table with a bunch of six-year-olds. A chorus of 'hey Frankie's' joined after. Okay, so maybe everyone called him Frankie. But adding "baby" at the end of it surely meant _something_. It wasn't an accident--not anymore at least. It was on purpose!

"Hey, babe," Gerard called from a storage closet. Both Lindsey and Frank looked in Gerard's direction. Lindsey noticed and Frank ducked his head in embarrassment. Dammit, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

"Yeah, babe?" Lindsey replied. Three girls at the table giggled, their small hands were sticky with paint.

"Where's the acrylic?" Gerard asked with his hands on his hips.

"Out here, babe." Gerard turned and stole the green and brown from the table.

The little girls giggled again and one of them asked, "are you guys dating?" She batted her blonde eyelashes teasingly.

"Nah, we're just friends," Lindsey said and winked at Frank when Gerard wasn't looking. Frank widened his eyes as if to say _"what does that have to do with me?"_ The camp counselor snorted and went back to work.

Frank, now annoyed and cheeks hot, turned to leave the dusty art cabin and back to the safe haven that was the music cabin. Except that high, nasally voice got to him first. Damn him.

"Frankie Baby! Where are you off to? We have toy soldiers to paint," Gerard frowned. The three little girls with Lindsey giggled to each other.

Frank narrowed his eyes and all but stomped his way over to where Gerard stood. "You have to do that in front of the children?" He hissed at the older man. His hands were clenched into fists by his side like an angry toddler. And by the looks of Frank's shoe size...

"Eh, they've heard worse," Gerard said, shrugging. Frank stopped, mesmerized by the way Gerard talked out of the corner of his mouth. G took notice and smirked. "Now sit your ass down and paint," he ordered, placing a hand on Frank's shoulder and gently pushing down.

"No swearing in front of the children..." Frank started, his voice trailing off into a whisper. Again, he was mesmerized by the older counselor. He kinda liked being bossed around by Gerard. But no one else! And Gerard could fuck off most of the time.

_Fuck..._

**Three**

Usually, when Gerard called Frank his own special nickname, there was always a crowd or someone to humiliate him in front of, but not this time. 

Frank felt like he was in the beginning of a horror movie and had just turned down the wrong hallway. The killer was standing right _there_, but the person alone with him in the storage closet wasn't an ax-wielding psychopath. It was Gerard. Just sweet Gerard with the tips of his hair wet. He looked so innocently gorgeous right then. So why did he feel like he was about to be murdered?

"Hey, Frankie Baby," the older counselor said softly, gently brushing his fingertips across Frank's arm as he passed him.

"Hhh-hi," Frank whispered. It took a minute for sound to come out of Frank's mouth, so he had just stood there with a surprised expression on his face. His voice came out high and scratchy, almost. What the hell? 

Usually, Gerard never called him that when they were alone. _Usually_, because there had been a couple of times but someone always came into the room after like he was being punked. Frank waited awkwardly for someone--_anyone, a ten-year-old for all I care_\--to walk in. But no one did.

"Whatcha doin' in here?" Gerard asked, hands behind his back like nothing was wrong. But _nothing_ was wrong, right? They were just standing there looking at each other. Nothing weird or out of the ordinary had happened. Nothing except for what Frank noticed, which Gerard probably didn't. Gerard probably didn't even think twice about it. It's only a nickname.

Frank pondered for a moment, and damn, he absolutely forgot why he had came in here. "What're you doing here?" Frank countered accusingly. 

"I wanted to take a smoke break," Gerard frowned, taking out a pack from his back pocket. "I usually do it outside away from the kids, but it's raining."

"Oh." _Oh._ Frank exhaled a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. Why was he so worried? Frank laughed softly at his own stupidity. "You're such a nerd," the younger counselor said, shaking his head and smiling. _As if he has any right deciding who's a nerd._

"So are you, Frankie Babe," Gerard retorted, lighting his cigarette. A defensive 'hey!' caught in Frank's throat at the sight. Gerard cupped his hand around the flame--despite there being no wind--and tilted his head down to light the stick. And _oh dear God I need to get out of here._

Frank's knees shook at the sight, and he took a step back, hitting the wall. "Don't like smoke?" Gerard asked around the cigarette before taking a long drag.

Frank's heart lept to his throat and he almost choked on his words. "I-I just remembered why I came here--what I needed to get," Frank stumbled to the shelving units beside them. "The kids need me," he said, grabbing a spare sleeping bag and _subtly_ holding it in front of his lap.

"Alright," Gerard drawled, confused but unbothered.

_I am so fucked..._

**Four**

The kids were asleep which meant the adult counselors could finally have some fun.

Someone--_Bert_\--snuck in a case of beer for them for Friday nights like these. They could get tipsy and talk and have fun until the sun rises. It wasn't responsible, but it was still summertime and vacation.

So, with the mix of alcohol and hormones, that's how they stumbled upon the topic of virginity.

Everyone started casually sharing their first times as they sat around the boys' cabin.

"I lost mine to my neighbor Troy when I was sixteen."

"Virginity is a social construct. It means nothing."

"Fifteen years old, baby."

Then someone asked Gerard how he lost his.

"I was a late bloomer," Gerard said, shyly. "I was eighteen and it was on prom night with my girlfriend at the time." Gerard shrugged nonchalantly as Lindsey 'aw'ed at him.

"What about you Mikey?" Bert asked the younger Way. Mikey barely glanced at Alicia and shrugged. Alicia started to giggle behind her hand.

Frank sat back quietly on the couch. He prayed no one looked at him or starting talking to him. Sure, it didn't mean anything, and he had nothing to be embarrassed about but still. Frank was a virgin. He had kissed boys and girls before and even exchanged handjobs but that was all. His friends wouldn't care if he was a virgin, but he still didn't want to be embarrassed. Plus, some of them would totally tease him for it. _I __wonder__ if Gerard __would__ tease me for it._

Then, of course, Frank's worst nightmare happened. Thank you oh sweet benevolent god.

"What about you Frankie Baby? Who popped your cherry?" Gerard asked, just shy of sultry.

Frank's stomach turned hot with Gerard's dark eyes on him. "I don't have a cherry, you nimrod," Frank muttered. G's smirk twitched.

"Woah, who took it?" Bert joked.

"Shut up!" Frank threw a pillow at him.

G cleared his throat from where he sat at the opposite end of the couch. His right hand was holding a beer and his left arm was around on top of the couch. Lindsey and Ray were squished between them. Frank glared at Gerard, daring him to continue.

"So?" Gerard continued, stretching the 'o'.

Frank could feel everyone's eyes on him and the heat from his gut left and crawled to his face. _I hate everything_.

"Virginity isn't even real, who cares?" Jamia said, rolling her eyes.

She gave a short nod at Frank, and he silently thanked her.

"Alright, who's broken any bones?" Alicia piped up. And like that everyone forgot the previous topic and were drunkenly arguing who's injuries were worse.

Frank was _done_. He was tired of Gerard embarrassing him in front of everyone.

He decided, _it's time to beat him at his own game._

**Five**

Beating Gerard at his own game was easier said than done for Frank. He was a little shy and too nervous to try anything. _If he can flirt, __I__ can flirt!_ Frank thought, but everytime there was a crowd and he gathered up the courage to do it, he blanked. Frank felt so lame.

But god dammit he was going to do it! And if there was anything Frank was more than chicken-shit it was determined. He was a forgive but _never_ forget type. Plus his mean streak for holding grudges was pretty high. It was Frank's execution skills that needed more work.

-

Everyone was outside playing in the rain and mud with the kids--which was probably a very bad and messy idea--except for Gerard. He liked the rain but not so much the mud. So he stayed inside the boys cabin and made some coffee.

Frank walked in a minute later drenched from the rain.

"Why aren't you out there?" Gerard asked and sipped his black coffee.

"I'm good with playing in the rain and all, but once the mud-slinging starts, I go inside," Frank explained. He twisted his wet shirt in his fists to rinse some of the rainwater out.

Frank looked _so_ pretty it was breathtaking. His dyed black hair lost its curl as it dripped wet, his eyeliner ran a smidge, and his plump lower lip shined red from biting it. _He's perfect_.

"You're so cute it hurts, Frankie Baby," Gerard mused. He expected the water on Frank's face to turn to steam with anger, but Frank just smirked.

Frank didn't blush or squeal or yell like normal. This time he slinked closer and looked up at Gerard from under his eyelashes. "Thank you, Mr. Way," he murmured in a sultry voice.

It was Gerard's turn to blush and stutter. "M-Mr. Way?" Frank's never called him that before; other people have called him that before but he was never turned on by it until now.

Frank clasped his hands behind his back as he tipped forward and bit his lip. "I can't have a nickname for you?" He asked innocently, batting his eyelashes. "That's not fair..."

"I-I never said you couldn't..." Gerard stumbled. He had sat his coffee down by now and was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His heart raced in his chest. This was so confusing yet so exciting.

Frank took another step forward. "Come on Mr. Way. Is that all you can say? Cat got your tongue?" He smirked devilishly at the older counselor.

No way was Frank going to win this. Trying to beat Gerard at his own game. Gerard would show him...

Gerard ran finger down Frank's cheek and pushed the wet hair out of his face. His thumb brushed Frank's lower lip, and he could feel the small gasp that slipped threw them. "I can think of other things I'd like to do with you than talk, Frankie Baby," Gerard whispered. Now Frank blushed.

Gerard leaned down slowly, giving Frank time to turn away. Frank's eyelids fluttered as their lips met and he gasped into Gerard's mouth. The older counselor then took the opportunity to lick into the younger one's mouth.

"This is payback for embarrassing me all the time with that stupid nickname," Frank mumbled against Gerard's lips.

"Kissing me is payback?" G rested his forehead against Frank's. "I'd say that nickname worked out though, wouldn't you?"

Frank smiled shyly and wrapped his arms around Gerard's shoulders. So maybe Frank was a pretty boy, and maybe that nickname turned out to be pretty good for him, too. He'll still never forgive Gerard for it. And now Frank knew how to make Gerard blush, and he'll definitely use it against him.

"You are the prettiest punk I've ever met, Frankie Baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally!!! you all say. I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to update this. I seriously had no idea what to write and I bullshitted my way through it but hopefully it isn't that noticeable. I love the premise of frank being so pretty and he hates it.
> 
> I was going to write smut at the end but I cannot be bothered! maybe I'll come back and add a smut part. 
> 
> hope you liked it! let me know pls. and I'm really surprised a lot of ppl wanted more of this, that's really cool.
> 
> \- paige


End file.
